Don't
by ashlanielle
Summary: The only thing more unexpected than a late-night knock on her door was the person standing on the other side of it.


**AN: So this one-shot has been bugging me. Now that it's done, I can focus on NATG. I'm not thrilled with this ending, because I'm not one that usually writes quick resolutions, often because they are not always realistic. But...(shrug)...we'll see how it goes. (Side Note: To those who are still reading NATG, I'm sorry for the incredibly slow updates. I have valid reasons, but I don't think you need to have them waved in your face. I can only promise that I'm working on it!)**

 **Don't-Jewel**

* * *

Rose's eyes became heavy as she stared absentmindedly at the scenes playing out on the television. Suddenly feeling their fatigue, her eyelids fluttered, bringing her back to the present she was seeking to escape. Tension became evident in her limbs, due in large part her shrunken posture. For several hours her legs had been drawn to her chest, one arm hugging them in place while her free hand clutched a mug. Acutely feeling the discomfort, Rose unfurled her body, allowing the blood to once again flow to her muscles. She brought the mug to her lips, and immediately grimaced as the now chilled Darjeeling reached her tongue. Forcing down the liquid, she stood, fully stretching her limbs, and padded into the small kitchen.

As she dumped the contents down the drain, Rose closed her eyes and sighed wearily as a fresh wave of sadness washed over her. One month had passed since it had all transpired. Thirty days of heartbreaking frustration and hopeful longing. Thirty nights of restless sleep and dreams of remembrance. Rose had been certain that reaching that milestone of time would mean that the pain would lessen, that the days would get easier, but such was not the case.

A sudden, forceful knock on the door pulled Rose from her musings, and she frowned as she looked at the clock on the wall. It was half past eleven, too late for random visitors. As the knocking continued without letup, she quickly placed the mug in the sink and hurried to the door. Angered by the late-night intruder, she harshly opened the door, still keeping the chain in place. As soon as she saw the man on the other side of the door, Rose felt a wealth of contradicting and intense emotions crash down on her.

"Ro-…"

Her named died on his lips as she slammed the door shut. Fiery rage was the clear winner in the battle of her emotions. Rose ran a hand through her mussed hair as she breathed harshly through her nose. Barely five seconds passed before the knocking resumed, this time with more urgency. Despite herself, she rushed the few steps to the door and jerked it open, the chain rattling in protest as it remained in place.

Once again, Rose locked eyes with the tall, thin man. She wanted to ignore the signs of exhaustion etched in his features, the equally mussed hair, the wrinkled suit, and loosened tie. Yet, despite her hurt and anger, she couldn't help the clinching sensation at her heart at seeing him so altered. She forced it aside, however, and allowed her anger to flare back to life.

His lips parted to speak, but no words came forth. Rose, on the other hand, had no such trouble.

"What do ya want, Ian?"

A ragged sigh left him as he began rubbing the back of his neck, struggling for the words he so desperately needed to say. His silence prevailed and Rose growled in irritation, shutting the door just as one word finally left his lips.

"Don't!"

The door had barely latched before it was flung open, the chain swinging in the air as Rose rushed out of her flat, her eyes blazing as she charged towards him.

"Don't?" she seethed. " _Don't?!_ "

"Rose…" Ian started, but was once again halted.

"Don't what?" Rose demanded. " _You_ have the bloody nerve to tell me 'don't'? After you ignored all of _mine_? Have ya forgotten 'bout them already?"

Ian's eyes became even more troubled at her words, and he made a valiant effort to reply, but Rose was not about to give him the opportunity.

"' _Don't_ say that… _Don't_ shut me out… _Don't_ leave me behind… _Don't_ walk away… _Don't_ break my heart'," Rose shouted. "Any of them ringin' a bell in that bloody thick skull of yours?"

"They all do, Rose," Ian finally spoke. "I remember every one of them!"

"An' you still have the bloody gall to tell me 'don't' and actually expect me t-…."

"Don't love him!"

All rational thought fled Rose at those three words. She wanted to reply, but how could she? What was there to say to such a thing?

"Just what exactly is going on out here?" came a shrill voice from across the hall, causing both Rose and Ian to turn towards its source—a robed middle-aged blonde cradling her albino looking Sphynx to her chest.

On seeing their sudden observer, Rose inwardly groaned.

 _Of all the people…_

"Nothin', Mrs. O'Brien," she answered rather unconvincingly. "Y'can go back inside. Ian was just leaving."

"No he's not," Ian countered to the neighbor before turning back to Rose. "No, I'm not."

"Oh yes you are," she retorted hotly.

"Not a chance, Rose."

The livid yet pained woman stared intently at the man before her. A fierce determination filled his eyes, and Rose immediately recognized that look, knew that there would be nothing that she could say to make him change his mind. As she held his gaze, however, she felt her heart constrict and hot tears prick her eyes.

The sheer intensity of emotions became too much for Rose to stand. Fiercely she shook her head, refusing her tears escape. She couldn't break down. Not now. Not in front of him. Not again.

"Y'know what? Fine," she snapped, turning back towards her doorway. "If that's the way you want it."

However, instead of beckoning Ian to come inside, Rose shoved her feet into a pair of old trainers by her door, not even bothering with tying the laces. Whirling back around, she slammed the flat door shut and started to storm past a haggard Ian.

"Rose," his hand darted out, grasping her arm, "what're you doing?"

"Walking away," she bit out, though more brokenly than she intended. "Don't you recognize it?"

A look of incredible pain flashed in Ian's eyes at her words, and Rose could feel her anger begin to waver. She could feel her resolve weaken and her composure begin to crumble under the onslaught of his dark gaze. Tugging roughly out of his hold, she stumbled a bit before righting herself and channeling every remaining ounce of derision and anger within her.

"Stay if you want. I'm sure Cassandra Bloody O'Brien is just bursting with questions, aren't ya?" she growled, thumping her hands against her neighbor's door as she continued down the corridor. The sudden, muffled yelp and multiple obscenities confirmed that the blonde busybody had indeed been listening to their domestic.

As she hurried to the stairwell, Rose was only vaguely aware of Ian calling after her. Despite the powerful inclination to turn back around and run towards him, she pummeled her body to do her bidding and continued onward, almost as if the physical distance would somehow ease her pain. However, with each passing step, her mind began to whirl. Thoughts, emotions, memories…they were swarming around her, encompassing her with their power. Though she had dreamt of him nearly every night since the fallout, it was absolutely nothing in comparison to being in his presence. Just like always, it left her profoundly affected.

Had she not been so consumed in the moment, Rose would have been aware of her movements, aware that her steps were becoming too hasty, that the tears building in her eyes were clouding her vision. But this was not the case.

On the next step she took, her foot landed on one of her untied laces, causing her to stumble. Her body acted on impulse and attempted to prevent her fall, but it was too late and she tumbled down the stairs. There was a harsh crack and intense pain that radiated through her leg as she finally reached the landing, her backside audibly thumping against the wall. Her mind shrouded in the fog of shock, Rose attempted to move but instantly became overwhelmed by an insurmountable pain, and a piercing scream of agony was torn from her lungs. Shock was now replaced with a steady flow of tears and silent sobs that jostled her body just enough to elicit a continuous cycle of pain.

"Rose?"

Hearing that dulcet voice that was ingrained in her heart, Rose lifted her head and saw Ian staring down at her, a look of object terror clearly visible. At that moment, her anger and heartbreak was forgotten as her eyes locked with his, and she released a shuddering breath.

"Help me…"

The whispered plea had barely passed her lips before Ian was at her side, having practically leapt the stairs in two bounds. Frantically yet somehow gently, he examined Rose for injuries other than her abnormally jutted leg, releasing a harsh breath of relief when nothing else was found. However, when his gaze met hers once again, Rose could see a wild look of worry in his dark eyes, and tears filled her own once more.

Seeing her whiskey eyes glass, Ian cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the few tears that began to fall.

"This is most likely going to hurt, Rose."

Confusion entered her eyes, but before Rose could voice her question, Ian had gathered her into his arms, anchoring her to his body as he descended the stairs. The sudden movement had indeed been painful, and Rose gasped before releasing a few choked cries.

"Don't cry, love. Everything's going to be alright," he soothed, placing a soft kiss to her forehead, "I've got you."

A faint voice told her to reprimand Ian for such endearments, to remind him that he'd willingly given up those rights; but Rose ignored its suggestions. In that moment she didn't want to feel anger, she wanted to feel safe, which is what she felt cradled in Ian's arms. So silencing the voice, Rose closed her eyes and allowed herself that luxury, however fleeting it might turn out.

* * *

There was a tense, awkward silence that filled the air as the nurse left the room. To be honest, there had been silence between them ever since they'd arrived at the A&E, but that was to be expected while the doctor set and cast her leg and the nurses attended to her immediate needs. But now that the excitement had died down, Rose and Ian were now alone and suddenly reminded of the exchange that had started this whole escapade.

For several minutes, neither spoke a word, merely exchanged quick side-glances at one another.

"This, uh…," Ian cleared his throat, "This wasn't one of the outcomes I imagined."

Rose turned her head, her eyes briefly meeting his before flickering away once more.

"How many were there?"

Puffing out his cheeks, Ian let out a long breath. "Twenty-seven and a half. The half was 'cause I was still plotting it out when you opened the door. Never got a chance to finish it."

An amused smirk tugged at the corners of her lips before they quickly reverted to their earlier stoicism.

"So…what exactly did you envision?"

"Well," he drawled, "there was one where you weren't home and I sat outside your door for hours and hours until you came back and I literally begged at your feet. Then there was another where your mum answered the door and nearly strangled me to death with that horridly pink jumper she loves..."

Rose had to bite her bottom lip to keep from chuckling at that mental image.

"There was even one where Mrs. O'Brien's freakish feline cornered me and proceeded to gleefully rip my body to shreds."

A soft snort escaped with that last one and Rose shook her head.

"It's not entirely outside the realm of possibilities," Ian defended. "He's not normal. Have you seen that creature's eyes, Rose? Completely dead."

Rolling her lips inward, Rose once again tried to hold back her laughter, her body faintly shaking with a few silent chuckles. Her eyes flitted to the side and she immediately saw Ian gazing at her, a soft smile upon his lips. A familiar fluttering sensation surrounded her heart, and she swallowed harshly before turning her eyes away. The plethora of emotions that Rose had been battling for the past month began to resurface, though this time less overwhelming.

"Y-…Y'don't have to stay, Ian," she said evenly, "I'll call someone to give me a ride home after they give me my discharge papers."

"No, I can take you back," Ian insisted. "I _want_ to be here…with you."

Hearing his answer instantly caused hot tears to prick the back of her eyes and she closed them tightly, inhaling a silent breath.

"D-…Don't do that," Rose pleaded softly, her eyes still shut. "Please…it's…it's unfair and it's cruel. So, please…just don't."

"I don't understand," Ian replied, his tone matching hers.

"Don't say that you _want_ to be here," Rose answered, her eyes opening finally. "That you want to be with _me_. 'Cause it's not true…not anymore."

Ian focused intently on her, taking in every minute detail of her countenance. The pain she felt was visible though she did remarkably well in masking it. It was his turn to close his eyes and take in a centering breath. He'd come to her with a purpose, and he refused to leave without accomplishing it.

"Rose…I've always, _always_ wanted to be with you. Have ever since you plopped down beside me in Professor Henrick's lecture hall. So any belief outside of that is what's not true."

"You left me, Ian! You. Left. Me," Rose cried. "After a _year_ together! I begged you not to, but you left. Ya said that it wouldn't work. That we were foolin' ourselves. That it was for my own good. That you weren't the one for me. An' now ya sit there an' say that you've always wanted to be with me?! What am I s'posed to do with that? What am I s'posed to think…to believe?"

Recalling the memory, Ian closed his eyes and sighed wearily, shaking his head.

"I… I told you what I thought was necessary."

"What does that even mean?" Rose questioned exasperatedly, feeling increasingly irritated with the round and round.

For a brief moment there was silence, Ian flitting his eyes back and forth as he formulated his response. "I got it, Rose," he answered finally. On seeing the confused look in her eyes, he continued. "The fellowship at Cal Tech… I got it."

It took merely a few seconds for her to process Ian's statement and a small smile to emerge.

"That's fantas-…," Rose began but stopped as her mind began to connect certain dots, her smile quickly faltering. "Wait… When did this happen?"

"A little over a month ago," he replied quietly, lifting his eyes to meet hers and allowing her to see the guilt they held.

"A month…" she whispered, "So, right about the time you decided to end things between us."

Clearing his throat, Ian nodded faintly. "Yes."

"So you say you wanna be with me, that ya care about me, but then…," Rose scoffed, her tone rising, "then ya just tell me th-…"

"It's not what you think, Rose. I mean," he sighed in frustration, "it's no-…"

"Oh my God," Rose grumbled, pressing her fingers tightly against her temples. "For someone so bloody brilliant, you are complete an' utter crap at communicating, an' I don't have nearly enough morphine in me to put up with it. So for the love of God, just say w-…"

"What was I supposed to do, Rose?" Ian broke, the weight of his own emotions finally getting to him. "Cal Tech…this position…it's practically halfway across the world. I've barely a penny to my name. No family, no set future, absolutely nothing to offer you, this astoundingly brilliant woman who has everything, comes from one of the most powerful families in Britain. How could I ask you to marry me and give all of that up, just for me? You'd be leaving your parents, your life here, everything you've ever known!"

Ian was about to continue on with his explanation, and more importantly, with his original purpose in seeing her that night. However, even though his lips were parted and poised to speak, no words came forth. This was due solely to the pure shock etched on Rose's face. Those whiskey eyes he'd lost himself in so many times were unnaturally wide, her full lips forming a slight O-shape. His mind rapidly replayed his words before stumbling to an abrupt, screeching halt, suddenly registering what had elicited such a reaction in her.

"That…" Ian swallowed, tugging on his ear, "That was not how that was supposed to play out. Obviously…"

Completely taken aback by what she'd just learned, Rose remained silent as Ian's words took root. When her voice finally returned to her, it was barely above a whisper.

"Y-you…wanted to... _marry_ me?"

The unexpected revelation seemed to have left Ian at a loss, for he began fidgeting in his seat, his hands moving from one place to another, as if he had no clue what to do with them.

"Ian," Rose beckoned, her voice firm but lacking any vein of harshness. His eyes finally settled back on her face, instantly locking with hers. "Did you really want to? Marry me, that is."

"More than anything," he said resolutely, his eyes never leaving hers. "Wanted to 'bout two weeks in, but I thought that might come across a bit too strong."

Once again, hot tears filled Rose's eyes and she shook her head, looking heavenward and doing her best to blink them away. The whole situation was nearly sensory overload. Thoughts, emotions, feelings… so many of them were coursing through her veins, making it close to impossible for her to process it all. There was so much that needed to be said, by both parties, but neither one spoke, allowing silence to fill the air.

It was Rose who worked up the courage to speak first.

"I didn't leave my flat for a week after you ended things. Couldn't sleep, barely ate anythin'. Wasn't till Amy came round an' literally dragged me outta bed and forced me to start moving that I actually started getting better. Least tried to."

Her voice wavered as she spoke, her emotions wreaking havoc on her words, but she continued despite them.

"I have _never_ cared about wealth or position, an' y'know that. I mean, I live in a one bedroom flat that _I_ pay for. I live my life. And you…," she finally looked back at him, a few tears escaping her eyes and trailing her cheeks, "you had no right to make my decision for me, no right at all!"

"I know that now," Ian answered regretfully. "I never meant…," he paused, sighing and running a hand through his hair, "I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you go."

Wiping at her eyes, she shook her head in disbelief. How could he even fathom that leaving her was the right thing?

"But I was wrong," he continued. "So, so bloody wrong. I-…I haven't slept more than a few hours since that day. My mind just wouldn't turn off. All I could think about was…was you. How you are positively murderous until you've had your morning cuppa. How you fiddle with your left earring when you're concentrating. About your smile, especially the one where you poke your tongue out the side of your mouth and make me lose all ability to formulate words."

Unable to turn away, Rose could only stare in wonder as Ian spoke, tears steadfastly rolling down her cheeks. Tentatively, he reached out his hand, hovering just above her cheek. When he saw no opposition towards his action, Ian cupped her face, gently stroking away her tears.

"How you're the most compassionate person I've ever met, but how you will also go down fighting for the people you care about. About how you live with such passion it's astounding. How you take my breath away every single time I look at you. How even though I don't deserve you, could never deserve you, I can't imagine a life without you in it."

"Why did you wait so long to tell me this?" Rose inquired softly.

"Initially it was because I was such a bloody coward, I didn't know how to face you. And then, when I finally worked up the nerve, I… I saw you and him, and I thought th-…"

"Hold on…what are ya talkin' about? Who's 'him'?"

"What do you mean what do I mean?" Ian countered confusedly. "The bloke I saw you with on campus. You were all smiles and hugs, and from the way you two acted around each other, it was obvious tha-…"

"Lord, you're such a daft git," Rose muttered, shaking her head again in disbelief.

"What?"

"That bloke you saw was my cousin Rory. He's been in Rome for two years an' his security firm just relocated him back to London. And, not that it matters since like I said, he's my cousin, but he is engaged to Amy as of," she looked down at the time on her phone, "eighteen hours and twenty minutes ago."

On hearing this new bit of information, Ian felt the air in his lungs still and his eyes widen.

"So you're not… that's to say… there's no one else?"

"No," she whispered, "never has been. Only…only you."

Holding back the tears was no longer an option for Rose and she allowed them to fall unabashedly down her face. Unable to bear it any longer, Ian reached out his other hand, grasping her face in a firm, yet somehow gentle manner, futilely wiping away at her tears. Tenderly he kissed her forehead before resting his own against hers.

"Please…," he begged softly, his breath ghosting her skin, "Please don't let me be too late."

A strangled sob escaped her, and Rose clasped her hands around Ian's neck, pulling him towards her and melding her lips with his. Though unexpected, her action was highly welcomed, and Ian instantly and enthusiastically reciprocated her actions. All too soon Rose broke their embrace, though still held his face close.

"Don't ever say or think that you don't deserve me."

"I'll try," he promised before kissing her again. A beat passed and she pulled back again.

"Don't shut me out."

Recognizing her pleas, Ian shook his head, his eyes firmly fixated on hers. "I won't."

"Don't leave me behind."

"Can't even imagine it," he replied in earnest, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Don't…," her voice broke as she made her final request, "Don't break my heart again."

"Never again," Ian promised with such deep sincerity that Rose didn't question it for an instant. "Not for as long as I live."

A moment passed where they did nothing but simply gaze at each other, silently conveying the depth of what they felt in their hearts. Finally, a slow brilliant smile blossomed on Rose's face, a smile that Ian couldn't help but mimic as he pulled her to him once more, capturing her lips and attempting to show her just how much he meant those words as Rose conveyed her forgiveness.

Though deep down they both knew there would be more to discuss, more time for the wounds to fully heal, they were both grateful for one thing—that it was most definitely not too late.


End file.
